


positions

by katarasvevo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, atsumu is a foolish mess my god, everyone is stupid, ft. the msby black jackals team dynamics, osamu is best boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27448045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarasvevo/pseuds/katarasvevo
Summary: “Guys. What’s up with him?” Bokuto says, pointing his thumb at Atsumu, who has not moved an inch in the past five minutes.“I think Hinata broke him,” Inunaki whispers.Hinata Shouyou is easy to love, and it's kind of a big problem for Atsumu.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Hinata Shouyou, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 385





	positions

**Author's Note:**

> just finished the hq manga, n got diagnosed with severe atshn brainrot <3 btw idk what im doing

“Oh, this is perfect,” Sakusa says dryly from where he’s doing practice warm-ups ten feet away from everyone else. “Another joyful addition to the team.”

“Aren’t you just a bundle of sunshine, Omi-Omi?” Atsumu says. “Allergic to happiness wherever you go.”

They watch the newest member of the team introduce himself, and he’s clearly over the moon to be here. It’s official. It’s a Wednesday morning, the sky is blue, Hinata Shouyou has become part of the MSBY Black Jackals, and it seems as if he has never been happier.

Everyone’s pretty enthusiastic, greeting Hinata. Especially Bokuto, who looks, for what it’s worth, like a very proud parent, waving at Hinata mid-stretch. Hinata beams, taking the opportunity to get a one-on-one chat with him first. And then he makes a round around the court.

“Shouyou-kun, congrats,” Atsumu says when Hinata gets to him. “You made the cut.”

“You bet I did,” Hinata says, grinning. He doesn’t look vastly changed from the boy he’d been at Nationals, but he has, of course, undergone a transformation that only the years can give. “Didn’t you say you were going to set for me one day?” 

“Glad you remembered. Because how could I forget?” Atsumu says, his mind taking him back to Inarizaki’s defeat against Karasuno, facing off the storm that was Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shouyou. And those lightning-quick instances that left Atsumu _wanting_ more. “You impressed me so much, it was only right to say it. And, just letting you know, my expectations from you are much higher now. But I know you won’t let me down.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Hinata says, beaming. “And you’ll see. I’ll prove it to you.”

The thing is, he already has. Atsumu saw him at try-outs. He’s seen his games. If Hinata was good before, he’s even better now, a fully fledged crow. 

(Built from lightning, and made for air. A storm-turned-hurricane.)

“Oh? You have my undivided attention. I can’t wait,” Atsumu says.

They talk for a bit, and then Atsumu is saying, “You should talk to Sakusa over there. He’s dying to meet you,” because he’s curious on how it’ll go, if it’ll be anything like Sakusa and Bokuto’s incredible first meeting as official teammates. (It was better than any reality TV show episode.)

As Atsumu watches Hinata initiate conversation, Sakusa’s face a careful portrait of neutrality, Atsumu finds that he isn’t actually thinking of what they could possibly be talking about. Because his mind is full of this:

Hinata Shouyou being here, and how it feels a lot like a promise fulfilled.

* * *

Management sets up a dorm for Sakusa and Hinata to share, and, from the looks of it, Sakusa isn’t looking too pleased about it.

Thomas gives it a week before disaster strikes. Inunaki gives it a couple of days.

“Poor guy’s going to be terrified out of his wits,” Barnes says in sympathy during their second practice session of the week, as they all watch Hinata laugh very loudly at a joke Bokuto has made that Atsumu previously thought you had to be, well, Bokuto, to actually find funny.

Inunaki nods in agreement. “Don’t know how it was a good idea. Shouyou-kun seems like the total opposite of him. He’s probably gonna try to be all buddy-buddy, and Sakusa’s going to end up eating him for dinner. Bones and all.”

He might be right. Maybe. Atsumu has known Sakusa for years now—they’re practically best friends, even if Sakusa is loath to admit it—and Sakusa is just one of those people the sun doesn’t tend to shine on. It’s part of his broody image.

But somehow, Atsumu doesn’t think this Sakusa-Hinata arrangement is going to end up in complete flames. He’s seen more improbable changes of the heart. Hinata might emerge unscathed yet.

“Well, Captain?” Thomas says, gesturing towards Hinata, whom Sakusa is appraising with a very critical eye. “Any thoughts?”

Meian lowers his water bottle. Assesses the situation. Most people’s game sense doesn’t actually translate well to fields outside of sports, but Meian’s got it—in spades, even. It’s admirable. If only the same could be said for Atsumu—as Osamu has reiterated time and time again.

(“I do think you have some brain cells, but only when it comes to volleyball,” Osamu had told him once after the Incident, during their last year of high school. The Incident is an embarrassing event Atsumu has no intentions of actively revisiting, but it involved a pound of Twizzlers, tape, a boombox, and a bad dye job.

Even with Osamu miles away and the Incident long since passed, Atsumu still bristles at the memory.)

“I think,” Meian says slowly, smiling a little, “that it’s going to be as okay as it can get. Shouyou-kun will be fine. He may seem like he’ll be overwhelming to Sakusa in a bad way, but I can tell he’s a lot more grounded than what you guys give him credit for. He might not be someone who looks like he’ll get along with Sakusa, at first glance, but I think he’ll be a pleasant surprise. Kid’s impossible not to like. He won’t melt Sakusa’s stone heart, but he’ll get there in a different way.”

Inunaki and Thomas exchange glances as they evaluate this observation. 

“Bet’s still on the table?” Barnes says with a smirk, and if there’s one thing that’s always carried over to life outside of sport, it would be that competitive edge that only ever sharpens after every game won (or lost).

“A bet?” Meian echoes, brows furrowed.

“Yeah,” Atsumu speaks up for the first time in a while. He idly rubs at the scuffs on his shoes. “They were talking about how long either Sakusa or Hinata would be able to tolerate the arrangement. It’s stupid, if you ask me. I mean, this is Shouyou-kun we’re talking about, like Meian said. Big smile, big heart. Bet you by tomorrow they’ll be making friendship bracelets and braiding each other’s hair.”

“That wasn’t the case with Bokuto,” Inunaki says, and at this they all collectively cringe.

If an objective truth exists out there, it would be that Bokuto and Sakusa are never going to be a match made in heaven. Put together, they’re oil and water.

“I’m still sticking to my guns,” Thomas says after a beat has passed. “You never know.”

Barnes seems to be on Meian and Atsumu’s side, so he passes up on the bet. Inunaki goes with Thomas. All Atsumu can think about is how it’s going to make for an interesting conversation.

* * *

Days later, Thomas and Inunaki lose the bet—big time—and Meian walks away ten free meals richer.

“How?” Inunaki grumbles.

They all watch Hinata chatting up Sakusa with absolutely zero signs that Sakusa is going to devour him alive. It’s a very fascinating observation, like watching a baby bird trying to communicate with a wolf—except the wolf has taken to the bird like a grudging surrogate. They can’t hear much of the conversation, but some words stick out: something about postures, diet, health shit. Who knew the Black Jackals were slowly turning a team of geriatrics? 

“It’s the Hinata Effect,” Atsumu says, waving a hand. “It’s only a matter of time before he finds a way into your mind. And heart.” He’s seen Hinata in glimpses over the years. And one of the key takeaways he’s always had is that Hinata has friends coming from just about every shade of the spectrum—from the most intimidating of giants to the meekest of people. People are drawn to Hinata like he is the sun. There’s no escaping his orbit.

“Tsumu!” a voice is saying brightly, out of nowhere. An arm slings itself around Atsumu’s shoulders. “Looks like you guys are having the time of your lives. What’s up?” Bokuto has joined in on the conversation, and it’s great. Perfect.

“Nothing,” Atsumu says, just as Inunaki cuts in with, “I think Miya here might be falling in love soon,” like the little shit that he is.

“Aw, that’s so good to know—wait, what? Really?” Bokuto gasps, and Atsumu groans, because there’s like _fucking_ stars in his eyes, which means this conversation will not be over until the end of time. “You’re falling in love with someone? Wow! Do I know them?”

“What? No! Inunaki’s just—he’s fucking around,” Atsumu says, glaring daggers at Inunaki, who has doubled over with laughter.

Barnes makes a thoughtful sound. _“It’s only a matter of time,”_ he repeats what Atsumu said earlier, and yeah, fuck him, too.

“Suck a dick,” Atsumu fires back half-heartedly, but they’re not listening, of course.

They continue messing with him for a bit. They make it sound like Atsumu is in a car, and he’s on a steep ramp, on the precipice of crashing straight down into lover’s hell. Life is a fucking highway. Yeah it’s a joke, but Atsumu can’t shake off the feeling this is some kind of silly omen for the future, even though love is the last thing on his mind. 

(Volleyball was his first love, and he means it to be his only love. Now is not the time for Atsumu to be unfaithful to their marriage.)

The subject changes—thankfully—when Bokuto brings up the topic of some wicked dump shot feint he saw during a game, and that ends matters. For now.

* * *

Over the weeks, they tear through practice games, and it’s enough to cement Hinata as a constant who fits into the team like he was always meant to be here. He makes fast friends with everyone, and even though it shouldn’t be strange, Atsumu is weirdly awed by how Sakusa’s threatening aura is softened by Hinata’s presence.

At this rate, Sakusa and Hinata are going to be doing shit like paint each other’s nails, and Atsumu would not even be surprised.

But that’s not all. It seems that Hinata is on track to do the exact same thing with, well, everyone. He’s so likeable, he’s like a puppy everyone can’t help but be super friendly to. One practice session, he pulls off a serve he’s been working on getting right, and then Inunaki and Barnes are clapping him on the back, slinging their arms over his shoulders.

“Good job, kid,” Meian tells Hinata after a particularly grueling exercise that leaves everyone on the floor except for Hinata, because Hinata is crazy like that.

“Thanks!” Hinata beams, looking barely winded. “I’m looking forward to trying harder next time as well!”

He must be superhuman, Atsumu thinks through a thick haze of pain. It’s the only explanation. Even way back in the day, he was like this—a jumpy bundle of nerves incapable of being fazed. Hinata could have a showdown with a mountain and have it bend the knee from exhaustion.

“I’m counting on it,” Meian says, ruffling Hinata’s hair, and then there’s the coach blowing his whistle, telling everyone to take five. A collective sound of relief sounds in response.

“Fucking finally,” Sakusa murmurs. 

Atsumu just places an arm over his eyes. 

* * *

It is fact that Hinata is a very easy person to be with, and Atsumu quickly finds out that in no way, shape, or form, is he exempt from that normative law.

After Atsumu pulls off five service aces one practice game, Hinata says to him, “That was so cool, Atsumu-san!” He is practically bouncing on his toes, and his eyes go wide, and they’re bright—so very bright—and Atsumu almost has to take a step back.

“Pfft, it was nothing. That wasn’t even the best that I could do,” Atsumu says, mouth curving into a grin. “Next time, I’ll show you even better sights than that.” The comment doesn’t slip Sakusa’s notice.

“Shouyou, kindly refrain from inflating his ego,” Sakusa says. “He’ll become more unbearable than he already is. And you know what he’s like.”

Hinata pouts. “But I mean it, Omi-san! Just wanted to give credit where it’s due.” He turns to Atsumu. He smiles, and there’s a dimple on his cheek, and his eyes seem to glow. “Can you teach me how you did that super awesome serve? Let’s do it right now!”

(Later on, when he’s back in his dorm, Atsumu cannot, for the life of him, figure out why he couldn’t focus on much at all back in practice.)

* * *

Hinata has a billion types of smiles, and they’re different for each person. Not that Atsumu is keeping track.

“What, I’m not funny enough for you guys?” Atsumu grumbles when his teammates start booing at a Supremely Bad Joke Atsumu has made. And it’s fine—whatever. Fine. Not Atsumu’s fault they couldn’t see how great it actually was. Some people were just born with no humour. Like Sakusa. He probably came out of the womb frowning.

Sakusa shoots him a look of thinly veiled disgust. “It was so bad, I never want to laugh again.”

“Ouch, stop lying to the guy, Sakusa. He’s got a bright future in stand-up comedy. Wouldn’t want to discourage him from his dreams,” Thomas says—and wow, _dick_ much?

“Well, _I_ thought you were pretty funny,” Hinata says, like the amazing person that he is. He offers Atsumu a reassuring smile that Atsumu recognizes is the one Hinata usually gives him. The tells are obvious. It’s there, in the curve of his mouth. In the softness of it. 

(Okay, so what if Atsumu has it fully committed to memory?)

“Thank you,” Atsumu says loudly. “To the only person who gets it.” He lightly brushes his fingers against Hinata’s shoulder, and ignores the blood that has warmed in his cheeks; he hopes it’s not a fever. They’ve got a big game coming up. Not like a fever would stop him, but—still.

“How sweet, _Tsum Tsum,_ you have a fan,” Inunaki says. “Great taste in men you have there, Hinata.”

Barnes laughs. Meian shakes his head, used to the idiocy that has a tendency to permeate the court at odd moments. Hinata blushes, but he’s still smiling, and Atsumu quickly looks away, having registered some very strange symptoms he’s sure were absolutely not there before.

“Don’t listen to them, Tsumu, I found it funny, too!” Bokuto pitches in, effectively diverting the attention away from Atsumu. 

Atsumu could hug him. The distraction was much needed.

“Oh, another one? And so the cult grows.” Thomas’s mouth curves. “It’s still not too late to chase your true calling, Miya.”

“Leave me alone, I’m done for the day,” Atsumu groans, and again it’s the end of things.

For now.

* * *

Atsumu comes over to Hinata and Sakusa’s place one night, and Osamu brings them dinner out of the kindness of his heart. Bokuto tags along, because he’s, well, Bokuto and that’s reason enough.

“Thanks, Osamu-san. This is the best. You _are_ the best,” Hinata says as he tucks into his meal, those puppy-dog eyes looking at Osamu so earnestly, Atsumu would not be surprised if Osamu fell in love at that moment.

“You’re welcome,” Osamu says politely, the smallest hint of colour on his cheeks.

Hinata’s eyes are sparkling. “Could you teach me how to make onigiri? Pretty please? When you’re free, that is—and if it isn’t too much of a bother? The ones you make are just too good.”

“Aw, you’re making him blush, Shouyou-kun,” Atsumu says, ignoring the way he’s gripping his chopsticks a little too tightly. “Of course he’d be more than happy to oblige. It’s practically a dream come true, having someone so eager and willing to learn under your wing. Right, Samu?”

Sakusa gives Atsumu an odd glance. And then his eyes widen infinitesimally before narrowing. Osamu shoots Atsumu the exact same calculating look—similar enough to Sakusa’s that it tells Atsumu they’ve arrived at the exact same conclusion. 

And judging by the way Bokuto is looking at him… No doubt Bokuto will get there, soon.

“Right, exactly what he said,” Osamu says, smile genuine where it’s directed at Hinata, and frigid where Atsumu is on the receiving end. “Just text me any time that works best for you, and I’ll see if it’s also convenient for me.”

“How cute!” Atsumu drawls. “It’s a date. No doubt Samu is bursting with joy inside.”

Fortunately, Hinata doesn’t seem to pick up on Atsumu’s petulance. He just laughs, his cheeks turning soft pink, and he effectively steers the conversation into other topics. 

The night passes by slowly. Hinata and Bokuto get into a heated discussion about their new favourite show. They put on a movie—something about time travelling and aliens—and before anyone knows it they’ve fallen asleep, Hinata slumped dead on the couch with his foot almost pressed up against Bokuto’s cheek.

“Oh my God,” Sakusa confronts Atsumu once they’re sure Hinata and Bokuto are really passed out cold.

“What?” Atsumu says, because this is crap, he didn’t go over here so he could be lectured.

Osamu pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve always been an idiot. And a bastard.”

“Aw, you guys trying to hurt my feelings? Hm? Should I give you an A for group effort?” Atsumu says. “Also I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Figures.” Sakusa lets out a sharp exhale. “He’s so stupid, he probably doesn’t even realize it himself.”

“Possessive prick.” Osamu snorts. “I feel sorry for Shouyou-kun.” 

“Oi, I’m right here. Didn’t our mother ever tell you it’s rude to badmouth, Samu?” Atsumu says. “If you’re going to talk shit, at least do it behind my back. Assholes.”

“He just can’t handle the truth,” Sakusa continues, like Atsumu is not there. Like he isn’t listening to every word being said. “As if he wasn’t intolerable enough already.”

“He’s a mess,” Osamu agrees. “Always has been.”

And then there’s a rustling sound. They all freeze. The moment is so tense, they could put a knife to its throat. And then all is quiet again—punctuated by the sounds of Hinata and Bokuto’s breathing.

They are in the clear.

“I’d give it a month,” Osamu says after a beat of silence has lapsed.

Sakusa zips up his jacket to his chin. “That’s awfully generous. I would’ve said an eternity.”

Again, Atsumu has no idea what they’re talking about.

* * *

The prescribed amount of time passes, and Osamu is wrong. Clearly.

Things go the same, for the most part. The team wins games, they practice matches, and drink their hearts out afterwards. Hinata gets along with the team so supremely well, he’s practically become everyone’s best friend. It’s gotten to the point where everyone probably loves him.

Atsumu can’t blame them. Hinata is amazing. He’s the only one who finds Atsumu remotely funny, who smiles at Atsumu like he hung the moon, who looks at Atsumu like the super awesome guy Atsumu totally is. They make a damn good pair, and it’s exhilarating. Atsumu sets, Hinata spikes, and it plays out like a fucking symphony. The court is an orchestra, Atsumu is the conductor, and Hinata is the _crescendo._

It rouses in him a high that Atsumu could get drunk off of forever.

And he’s sure the team must feel the same way. 

It’s unparalleled, this electricity.

Practice comes and goes, and everyone is preparing to clear out for the day. Meian briefly goes over a list of areas they need to improve on. Hinata listens, rapt, and Atsumu stares at him. Hinata’s hair has grown longer. The longest locks brush just below his ears.

Atsumu clenches his fist. 

“Atsumu-san?” A voice interrupts his thoughts.

Atsumu blinks, and he sees Hinata smiling up at him, smile wide, eyes bright. Atsumu didn’t even notice Meian stopped talking. They’re close enough that Atsumu discovers a few new things. One: Hinata’s eyes to seem have flecks of gold in them. Two: there’s an almost imperceptible scar on the curve of his jaw. And three: Hinata is ... really pretty, all watercolour-soft features.

Atsumu blurts out, “Your, um, hair. It’s—getting long.”

“Oh, yeah.” Hinata giggles. “I’ve been meaning to fix that.” He tugs on the end of a strand, tucks it behind an ear.

Atsumu’s throat sticks. He’s hot all over. Clammy. (He thinks back to the analogy Inunaki made a while back. Atsumu is in a car, he’s driven off a cliff, and he is falling into nowhere.)

“Hey. Are you okay?” Hinata asks softly, looking so doe-eyed it makes Atsumu want to do an insanely brave, incredibly stupid thing.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? It’s just too—warm in here,” Atsumu says. And, like, he’s not lying. It’s close enough to the truth.

“Okay. If you say so.” Hinata hums. Just when Atsumu is sure Hinata is about to part ways with him, he does something that makes Atsumu’s brain short out. Collapse entirely.

He reaches up, brushes to the side a wave of stray hair on Atsumu’s forehead. And then he thumbs away a smudge of dirt that is somehow on Atsumu’s cheek. 

(Hinata’s mouth looks soft. His gaze is steady. His eyes are big and pretty.)

“All better,” Hinata says cheerfully. Then his fingers move to fix the collar of Atsumu’s shirt—and holy shit. _Holy shit._ “I’ll see you tomorrow, Atsumu-san.” He picks up his bag, gives a wave, and then he is moving, going, gone.

Centuries in the shape of seconds pass. The warmth of Hinata’s thumb on his skin lingers. Stays.

Atsumu buries his face into his hands.

* * *

“Guys. What’s up with him?” Bokuto says, pointing his thumb at Atsumu, who has not moved an inch in the past five minutes.

“Took him long enough,” is all Sakusa says, cryptic as ever.

Inunaki and Barnes, having watched the entire conversation, exchange looks.

“I think Hinata broke him,” Inunaki whispers.

* * *

Atsumu. Is. Fucked.

(Stupid Osamu.)

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha v sexy of me to have the power of both god and anime on my side *breaks down into tears* yes 3rd year hinata is my utter undoing


End file.
